Marisa 8: Joining the Club
by Prof. Voodoo
Summary: Elio takes Marisa on her fist stakeout, which leads to another first for her.


_This is a fan-fiction. The author does not own the property of the original concept, or any characters from the original._

There were gunshots, and then silence downstairs. Salvadore & Tomas braved a peek over the top of their barricade, down the dark hallway. There was only one staircase, and they had it covered. God only knew who had attacked the safe-house, or even how they had found it, but whoever it was they had obviously taken the first floor already. It was only a matter of time before they would come walking up the stairs, and get their welcome from Sal & Tomas.

**_________Watching the Master__________**

Creaking of floorboards alerted them that they only had seconds to wait. The men were hardened, vicious veterans of the struggles for Republican independence, proven killers of men both, but it was always the same in the few moments before battle. Sickening fear and uncertainty that made them both yearn for the simpler times of their past.

A shadowy figure appeared at the top of the stairs, silhouetted against the window. The men held their fire until they were sure the man was alone, and then turned bright flashlights on him. They were surprised to hear a thin squeak of terror. This was not a man, but a young girl...maybe only 10 or 11 years old.

"What the hell!?" Salvadore exclaimed.

The little girl put her hands up and trembled with fear. Tears were streaming down her face. "P-please...I didn't mean to do it! It was bad p-people, with guns! They made me c-come in here...they held a g-g-gun to my back and made me knock on the door! Then they started shooting everyone!"

_Well, that means it's not the police, or government agents,_ thought Salvadore, _they lack the conviction to adopt such a drastic tactic. Probably a rival faction...the Milan group most likely._ "Come over here!" he summoned in a hoarse whisper, "We'll protect you!" Tomas ducked behind the barricade and smiled, proudly displaying his single gold tooth. Sal only intended to use the child as a human shield (a hostage was meaningless if that really _was_ the Milan faction downstairs), but he could tell Tomas had other plans for her. Sal did not necessarily approve of his partner's fetish, but as long as they both got out of this alive Tomi could fuck this kid to death for all he cared...later. The business of surviving the next few minutes occupied all his attention for the moment.

Taking slow, timid steps the girl approached them. She seemed to hesitate as she passed a grandfather clock. "Hurry up!" Tomas ordered her, "The bad guys are coming up those stairs any second now!" With a whimper of fear and a glance over her shoulder she quickened her pace, and reached the men in a few paces. Tomas grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and tried to force her behind the barricade, but she pivoted on the heel of her polished Mary-Jane and escaped his grip. In a flash she had control of the man's gun, sending a bullet crashing straight through his gold tooth and into his brain. Salvadore tumbled over on his side and scrambled to escape. The last thought that went running through his mind was _never thought it would end like __this_, and a brief feeling of admiration for the Milan group. _Training little kids to kill...fucking brilliant._ All thoughts ended an instant later as Henrietta fired Tomas' pistol a second time and painted the hardwood floor with what remained of Salvadore's brain.

"Henrietta, Marisa, report!" ordered Giuseppe's urgent voice. Marisa stepped out from the shadow of the grandfather clock and keyed her radio, "Shots fired, 2 hostile's dead" she answered. She had actually come up the stairs first, but had remained stealthily invisible so Henrietta could demonstrate her classic technique.

"Good...there are 2 more somewhere in this house, continue to sweep your floor" Croce instructed, "and be careful."

Henrietta keyed her own radio "Copy Giuse." She gave Marisa a smile and asked "So what do you think?"

"That doesn't _embarrass_ you?" muttered the red-haired girl, her face twisted into a disapproving grimace.

"I'm not embarrassed by success" replied Etta with a huff. She had expected emphatic praise like she always got from Triela & Rico, and was miffed when she did not receive it.

Marisa leaned back and looked over the scene, "Yeah, it's effective...I can't argue with that, but the fake tears, the trembling, the stammering...don't you find that the least bit demeaning? Don't you want a guy to _know_ he's fucked before you drop the boom on him?"

Henrietta crossed her arms and replied "They might as well send in grown-up agents if you want to do it that way. I do what I'm good at...and didn't your handler tell you to stop using bad words?" Marisa scowled, but said nothing. _Goody two-shoes_, she thought, biting back another bad word, _now I'll have to be nice to her for the rest of the mission, or she's gonna rat me out._ "Besides..." added Henrietta, cheerfully, "...I'm not here to impress the Padania, I do it for Giuseppe, and now I can report 5 kills to him. You have how many tonight...three?"

Mari cocked her Beretta and growled, "Come on...we have work to do."

Marisa took the right side of the hallway while Henrietta cleared the left. They remained in verbal communication the whole time; "Bedroom, one closet...all clear!" "Bathroom...all clear." "You're checking under the beds, right?" "Check."

It was Mari who stumbled upon the last two hostiles, hiding in a storage room at the end of the hall. Now it was time for _her way_. She pinned one behind the door, as the other attacked with a kitchen knife. This man she easily flipped over her back and stomped on his neck, the bones of his upper spine collapsing with a sickening crunch. She turned her attention to the last one, who was straining to escape, and finished him off with 3 shots from her pistol at point blank range.

Etta dashed into the dark room to find her mission partner spattered with blood, but wearing a sadistic, self-satisfied grin. Moonlight from the window reflected off her bared teeth, and she had a streak of dark blood across her eyes like a macabre carnival mask. "There...5 to 5" Marisa hissed.

"Good," replied the short-haired cyborg, "but _I_ didn't get Padania blood all over my new dress." She gave a gloating smile and skipped down the hallway to Giuseppe.

* * *

As consequence of their late night the girls were excused from morning class (mathematics with Miss Priscilla; Henrietta was happy to skip it, Marisa was a bit chagrined to miss her favorite) but it was back to work that afternoon. They had shoot-house training today, team & individual drills.

Just like the previous night Mari was tasked with clearing a series of rooms, but since it was training she was doing it a whole lot faster. She and her partner Triela had split up, and one by one they kicked in all the doors, blasting the cardboard "hostiles" and rescuing the innocent hostages. Marisa knew the team was on track for a very good time. Triela could be counted on to hold up her end of the bargain, so as long as Mari could do _her_ part...

One final door; Marisa launched herself into it shoulder-first...and bounced off, tumbling feebly to the ground. "_Damn it!_" she growled through her teeth as she regained her footing. She delivered a powerful kick, but the reinforced door did not budge.

The handlers watched from their observation catwalk as Marisa cursed and screamed at the door, kicking it and beating it with her fists. "That door opens the other way..." Giuseppe muttered with concern. He lifted a bullhorn to his lips, but Elio gently pushed it back down.

"She knows that by now" replied the older man, "she's just frustrated about blowing a good time...let her work it out of her system. Stop that kid now and she's just going to carry all that anger into the next drill and screw it up too."

"Is she having an attack?" asked a concerned Avise Mancini, who had not yet witnessed a _Marisa Moment_.

"No" replied Alboreto, taking a sip from his water bottle, "just a run of the mill temper tantrum. She's been doing pretty well lately, so I'm not going to get angry at her about this. Besides, we have her first stake-out coming up, and that's going to be a whole new load of crap to deal with, so I want her in a good mood to start things off."

"Worried about concentration issues?" asked Hillshire.

Elio nodded, "Yeah, you know it. She's fine if she has something to focus on, but a week stuck in one boring room is going to be torture for her, and this might go even longer."

"You know, when my Henrietta was first learning to use her body I started her on the violin," offered Giuse, "the 2nd gens don't have the same coordination problems, but maybe a musical instrument could help Marisa with her focus issues."

"I thought about it" Elio told him, "and offered her a number of instruments to choose from, but the only one she had any interest in was the tuba, and I'm not going to inflict that on the rest of the dorm." The other handlers laughed, as Marisa finally began to slow down in her violent assault on the door.

"_Santa Maria_..." muttered Avise, "...lucky that thing is made of solid steel."

Triela ran to the starting point, below where the handlers were standing, and reported; "Sir, it's my responsibility, I should have reminded her to watch out for doors that opened out as well as in. If you have to blame someone, blame me!"

"Is that so?" said Elio, giving Hillshire a glance and a sly wink with the eye hidden from Triela's view. "Then give me 12 laps of the obstacle course and a full report on how you intend to improve your pre-simulation tactics briefings...minimum 5 pages, due tomorrow morning."

The look of proud determination fell off the girl's face, replaced by shock & dismay. "Whaaa...but..." exclaimed the blonde cyborg, as all the color drained from her cheeks. As the senior cyborg she always tried to accept responsibility for what happened during team operations, but nobody had ever _actually_ punished her for a team screw up. She looked desperately to Hillshire for reprieve, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry Princess, you _said_ you wanted to take the blame."

As the girl groaned and began to clear her shotgun, Mr. Alboreto leaned over the guard-rail and admitted "Triela, I'm kidding. Learn to take a joke."

All of the handlers laughed, but Triela crossed her arms and seethed in an exaggerated pout. "You guys aren't funny" she grumbled.

"Alright, quit picking on the poor kid" chuckled Giuseppe, "we have work to do...CLEAR THE RANGE...Agapita & Henrietta, you're up next! Where _is_ Agapita anyway?"

Calmed down by now, Marisa trudged out of the shoot-house and was met by her handler. "Sorry Elio...I screwed that one up bad."

"You know what you did wrong" he answered; it was more a statement than a question. "Don't get hung up on it. Take a break, grab some water, you'll get another shot in a few minutes." He sat down next to her on a covered bench and offered a towel, which she used to wipe sweat & gunpowder dust from her face. "We're going to Sicily tomorrow morning," he informed her, "we'll be trying to catch an arms deal in progress."

"Mafia or 5 Republics Faction?" she asked.

"Sicily is _Costa Nostra_ territory, they're importing Chinese small arms through Algeria, but the PRF might be the buyer. It's our job to find out." explained the handler.

"Okay, so I should pack my Kel-Tech...your G3..."

"...and a good book" he recommended, "This is a stakeout; we could be stuck in one boring room for weeks. Pack appropriately."

* * *

There was a lot of equipment to transport to Siracusa, so the fratello took an SWA van instead of the BMW. As they made the lengthy journey down the autostrada Elio drilled his student on the faces of all those suspected be involved with this deal. It was boring, but Marisa put her _game face_ on; working hard to commit the players to memory, and to pronounce the complicated names of the Algerians properly.

After 8 grueling hours they arrived at the Straits of Messina and took a break for dinner at a ristorante with an outdoor patio that overlooked the Messina Bridge construction. They looked with particular interest at the test bridge, where Giuseppe & Henrietta had thwarted Padania bombers, and 'Etta had faced off against the legendary Pinocchio. "We've both read the mission reports;" mused Marisa, between bites of her calamari, "it seems to me that Henrietta fared better in her first fight with Pinocchio than Triela did."

"Hmmm, I guess so" replied her handler, who had chosen grilled Branzino fillet, "but I'm pretty confident that 'Etta was happy she never had to face him a second time. She doesn't seem to carry a personal vendetta like Triela."

"I don't know about _that_..." Mari laughed, "...Rico & I have both gotten on her bad side and she's no fun when she's holding a grudge!"

The short ride on the Villa San Giovanni-Messina ferry was next. Before boarding, Elio had to argue with an overzealous security official who wanted him to open all the crates he carried in the van, but the SWA provided paperwork prevailed in the end. Marisa was excited to be aboard any boat, and wanted to go watch the sunset over Sicily from the bow, but her handler used the time to catch a quick nap in the van, so she had to go alone. "Next time," he groaned, "I'm getting us booked on that Napoli-Catania ferry like Croce recommended."

The rest was too short & once they drove off the vessel there was still a dark 3 hour drive down the east coast of Sicily. The fratello arrived in the _Industriale_ district of Siracusa just before 11pm, but there was still work to do.

"That's our warehouse" decided Elio, looking at a building about a hundred meters away "can you tell me why?" His student responded to the quiz by scanning for all the clues he'd told her to look out for.

"All the locks are all shiny. None of these other places have new locks" she offered.

Her handler's eyebrows rose. "You can see that from here? Jeeze...cyborgs. What else do you see?"

Eager to please, she looked for a clue that would be visible to her boss' less effective human eyes. "2 guards on the roof" she finally told him, adding "they both have Uzi's."

He nodded approvingly, and decided to let her keep going. "Where should we set up our surveillance?" Alboreto had already made up his mind, but he wanted to see if his charge would reach the same conclusion.

"Put cameras at both ends of the street, and we can get a room at that ratty hotel over there."

"Good" he replied with a smile and a congratulatory pat on the shoulder, "now let's get moved in."

**__________Grand Hotel__________**

They found vacancy at the seedy dock-workers hotel, and after Elio paid in cash the clerk did not even ask for identification. When an old man came to the desk with a little girl he automatically assumed the worst, and figured the guy would only want the room for a few hours, but the grey-beard paid for a whole week up front. Maybe he had a few more girls he planned to bring up to the room.

"Just bring the Zeiss scope, the video gear and our personal bags" instructed Elio, "we don't want to attract too much attention by carrying all these crates up the stairs."

"Good, I'm really tired" Marisa sighed.

_Oh well,_ thought Alboreto, who had been driving since morning, _so much for giving her the first shift._ He knew that was unrealistic anyway...he would not be able to get any serious rest until he knew how his trainee was going to perform anyway. _Let her sleep, completing the mission from beginning to end is my responsibility, not hers._

The room was worse than any Elio had ever brought Marisa to, but certainly not the worst _he'd_ ever stayed in. There was only one bed, unmade, with a mattress stained by innumerous sordid encounters. Luckily they located a pillow & a set of musty sheets in a closet. No towels were to be found. In the corner sat a television that looked like it hadn't worked in 15 years.

There were tears in the yellowed wallpaper and a few holes in the wall that looked like they were made by a knife. The main distinguishing feature of the worn out carpet was a burn mark one half meter in diameter. Above hung an idle ceiling fan missing one blade, none of its light sockets had bulbs in them. The ceiling plaster was peeling off in chunks.

"I've seen worse" muttered Alboreto, trying to keep his young trainee positive. If he set a precedent of tough acceptance she usually followed right along.

"Have you ever _smelled_ worse?" she muttered in response. She had a point; the room had a damp mildew smell, mixed with a hint of ammonia & decay as if someone had been keeping caged animals inside.

The handler laughed, and replied, "Yeah, remember, I had to help with the laundry back in Rufina while you were learning art and playing handball."

"I meant a worse _room_!" she laughed. He was pleased that she was still in a good mood about this.

* * *

The first day passed without incident, but also without sleep for Elio. He sat up all night watching absolutely nothing happen at the warehouse. From experience he knew this might go on for days. Alboreto gave a glance to his cyborg, watching her sleep. It was comical; the girl was sprawled out across the full length of the mattress, utilizing every square inch available to her. Like all cyborgs, mysterious tears issued from her eyes, and she would occasionally go into a twitching fit as if having a bad dream. He'd awakened her the first few times it had happened...months ago when the lived at the Dive Training Center...but she never remembered the dreams, and they did not seem to be doing her any harm, so since then he just left Marisa alone. Thankfully there were very few twitching fits this night.

The old spy's attention lingered away from the window longer than he knew it should. Lying there on top of the covers, mouth agape, arms and legs cast around the bed haphazardly; it was easy to forget that within her 11 year old body resided millions of euros worth of technology, most of it unknown outside the world of science fiction.

"_This should bother me more than it does_" he thought. Elio had been indignant when his old friend Lorenzo had first told him about the secret of child-cyborg killers, but he'd grown to accept the idea since then. Plenty of other handlers struggled morally with the job...Victor Hillshire, Michele Pagani, the younger Croce brother...they each had their ways of dealing with guilt. That's what bothered Elio; he could not bring himself to feel the guilt he knew any normal, feeling person would experience. With few exceptions the cyborgs seemed genuinely happy with their lives, but none of these girls ever had a choice about what they were. Living your entire life and dying for a cause you did not chose...was that not slavery? _There's no damn way I'd be involved in anything like that, but how is __this__ one bit different?_

He awoke her before dawn.

"Do we have hostiles?" she yawned, wiping her eyes and stretching.

Elio shook his head; "Not yet...probably not for a few days either. We need to get those cameras installed."

"But it's still dark outside" she sighed, swinging her legs out of bed.

"4am...best time to do it. Nobody else is awake."

She rolled her eyes. "Wow, it's official" Marisa jested, "we're the dumbest 2 people in Siracusa."

"Get yer arse dressed" the boss chuckled, tossing his student a set of clothes from her bag.

Wireless cameras were available, but poorly suited to this mission. They required frequent battery swap-outs, and were easy to jam, so conventional hard-wired video would have to be installed. The hardest part of this job would be to run over 50 meters of cable from each end of the street, but not be noticed by anyone. At least the hotel desk clerk was doing his part...sleeping at the counter. "Looks like we're clear" Elio said softly. From the van they unloaded the heavy coils of wire and climbed a rusty metal ladder to the flat concrete roof. Although the first rays of sunlight had not yet broken over the horizon it was already hot, with no breeze to mitigate the conditions.

"3 meter gap between the buildings" observed Marisa, "easy jump, even you could make it."

"Maybe 30 years ago" muttered the old spy, "I think I'll leave the jumping to you." The cyborg smiled, and made the leap without even a running start. Elio tossed her a camera and the wire and instructed "Run out what you need, plus 5 meters of slack...I'll feed it to you."

She was fast...it only took the girl a half hour to run the 50 meter cable and secure the camera to a telephone pole on the corner. Since nobody was looking Mari decided to goof off a little; she ran back along the telephone wire, like a high speed tightrope walker. She finished it off with a huge jump to the rooftop where Elio stood waiting, landing artfully with no stumble or bounce, and delivering an exaggerated bow to her one handler audience.

"Very impressive" he commented with a facetious smile, "if we ever find ourselves out of work you can always run away & join the circus."

"I dunno" she replied, "I'm not sure I want a life that involves cleaning up that much elephant poop. Let's get that second line run."

He waved her off and suggested "Let's take a break...we have time." She shrugged her shoulders and sat down next to him next to a decrepit air conditioning unit that looked as if it was held together by rust & pigeon droppings. "Mari, are you _happy_ with your life?"

"I'd have been happier with more sleep this morning" she joked.

Alboreto shook his head and pressed; "I'm not talking about that...I mean, are you happy with your life as a cyborg, especially now that you've met normal girls and seen how they live?"

She was silent for almost a half minute, and the grave look on her face made Elio consider that he may have made a mistake asking her that question. Finally, she spoke; "Sir, I don't think the word yes could ever really cover how I feel. Even if I could live a normal life, and grow up, and live for a hundred years, I can't imagine not being a cyborg...I can't imagine not being powerful."

"Normal humans find their own ways of being powerful" her handler explained, "and violence is not the only kind of power."

"But those girls my age will have to wait years before that" she answered. "If I didn't have my cyborg strength, and speed, and senses I would be afraid to leave my room every morning. There are so many terrible things in the world, terrorists, mafiosi, criminals...I even read that some villains film movies where they kill children for fun! How do people...even grown-ups...live their lives as if nothing is wrong, knowing they could become victims at any moment, and knowing they're helpless to prevent it?" She shuddered and drew her knees up to her chest. "I _never_ want to feel like that as long as I live."

"Most don't know the truth like you do" he sighed, wishing there was a way he could give her back that innocence, but knowing it was impossible. "Ordinary people have to focus on the good in their lives, or, as you say, they wouldn't be able to leave their rooms. Some folks are like that, they're so paralyzed by their fears so they never do anything...and that's truly sad."

Marisa sat silent for a long time, and finally asked "Elio, sometimes I think the only reason I'm brave enough to fight is because I have such an advantage...does that make me a coward?"

"You're over thinking things, Mari" he replied, putting his arm around her shoulders and giving a re-assuring squeeze, "nobody who knows you would ever think of you as a coward."

"When I fight, sometimes I do things to level the playing field." confessed the girl, "I don't like to use tricks like Henrietta...and sometimes I fight bad guys with my knife or my hands when my gun is right there. But I still have the upper hand, and I've never gotten much more than a scratch or a black eye in a fight. Do you really think I could be that brave if I was a normal girl...if I wasn't so physically powerful?"

"I think so" said her handler, "and the proof is in your anxiety attacks."

A look of disbelief crossed her face. "My _Marisa Moments_?"

"Your attacks are not your fault...they're a side effect of your weak conditioning" he explained "every day you have to face the possibility that your own conditioning, the very thing that makes your life as a cyborg possible, could fail you. Do you lock yourself away in your room for fear of that?"

"Sometimes I _feel_ like doing that..." Mari admitted.

"I know" Elio concluded his point "but you don't. You're out there...on time, each day, pushing every bit as hard as the other girls, in spite of a handicap that they don't have. That doesn't sound cowardly to me."

Alboreto breathed a sigh of relief when his cyborg rewarded him with a smile. "The sun is coming up" she observed, looking over the water to the east.

"It's a pretty sunrise" he replied.

"Yeah" said Mari, getting up and brushing gravel off the seat of her trousers, "but it means we've got to finish installing these cameras!"

**__________The Week___________**

Elio Alboreto did not get any sleep until the next morning. After installing the cameras, and setting up video recording he made the decision that it was safe enough to leave for a few hours and to find food & do some shopping. After a breakfast of fresh bread, tomatoes & locally caught fish the fratello found a discount department store not far from the stakeout sight. The place was very working-class, not up to the standards enjoyed by many of the Section 2 handlers, but it had just what Elio wanted...new bed-sheets, bath towels, air fresheners and laundry detergent. Best of all it was within walking distance of their hotel room, a plus in case he had to send Marisa out on an errand.

Before returning to the stakeout Elio drove around the neighborhood & conducted some highly important reconnaissance. "Keep your eyes out for any take-out places that deliver" he ordered his cyborg, "I need names, phone numbers, and hours if they're on the sign. I can not overstate the importance of this!"

After their expedition, and a review of the digital video taken in their absence (zero activity at the warehouse) the boredom set in, exacerbated by stifling heat. Like most everything else in the room the air conditioner was useless...it noisily blew stale air that was only a few degrees cooler than outside.

Desperate to pass the time, Marisa disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled both she & Elio's firearms, even though they didn't need it. Throughout the day the boss gave her longer and longer shifts watching the window...systematically trying to determine her maximum attention span. On this first day Elio learned his cyborg was reliable for about 5 hours before she could take the tedium no longer._ So 5 hours is the most I'm going to sleep until this is over_, he considered.

As he expected, Marisa was a struggle to live with when she was bored. With no outlet to blow off her boundless energy the young cyborg seemed determined to perfect the act of complaining, which Elio could tolerate with good humor until it reached the point of whining. When he ceased to respond to her she became fidgety, and from there it was a slippery slope to rambunctiousness. Elio's patience finally ran out, and he told her off sharply, after which the girl sat and sulked. This process repeated itself several times on that first day alone, and each time the handler felt guilty for scolding her...after all this was not a mission well suited to her talents, or any cyborg's talents for that matter. Even Claes would be crawling the walls on a job like this.

For the first few days Elio had a tool that worked effectively to calm his young charge down when her behavior began to get out of control. "Elio, I'm going crazy here! There's nothing going on...how long is this going to last?"

"If you're that bored I could e-mail Miss Priscilla and have her forward the homework for all your classes." That threat worked until day 3, when Marisa finally gave in and actually _asked_ Elio to send that e-mail.

Day 5 brought with it a slight break-through. There was still little to no activity at the warehouse, and it was still hot as hell, so Elio sent Mari on a _mission_ to buy a box-fan at the department store. She returned an hour later with that, plus some paper and drawing pencils. "I used my own pocket money...is that okay?" she asked, a tinge of uncertainty in her voice. She had deliberated for 20 minutes before working up the nerve to buy them.

"Better than okay" he re-assured her, "I think it's a really good idea. Have you been using the pencils Alicia Simoncini gave you back in Rufina?"

"A little" she answered, "it's always kind of busy back home at the dorm, so I don't get much chance to practice drawing." She looked at her purchases and added "I wish I had brought them along...this stuff isn't nearly as good."

Marisa's drawings of landscapes, animals & still-life subjects were about what one would expect from an enthusiastic but inexperienced 11 year-old. Her portraits however, were impressive. During her shifts away from the window she sketched every one of the suspects in the mission notebook, all with just a quick glance at their photographs. They were all of police quality at the very least...some were significantly better than that. "You keep that up and you won't have to clean up elephant poop when you run away to join the circus...you can work the midway as a portrait artist!" Mari giggled, happy to accept his compliment, but more amused to hear her dignified supervisor say the word _poop_.

* * *

"Elio, Elio, wake up!" urged Marisa, shaking her handler urgently. He had only been asleep 2 hours and was not in the mood for games. It was his first _night-time_ sleep too...prior to this he'd only allowed Mari to take day-time shifts at the window.

"What is it, Marisa?" he groaned.

"We have contact...3 confirmed hostiles entering the warehouse" reported the cyborg. That snapped Alboreto into full consciousness. He leapt to his feet and rushed to the Zeiss scope just in time to see 3 men walk into the dark warehouse. "I saw their faces" Mari continued, "It's Hector Batille and Piero Fonillia, both _Cosa Nostra_, and with them is their Algerian connection, Cheikh ben Allam."

"Good job, kiddo!" he congratulated her. The cyborg allowed herself to bask in his praise for a moment before getting back to business. Her handler was already focusing the long-range microphone. "I have voices..." he announced, "...can't make out what they're saying."

"Let me try!" Marisa offered. Elio surrendered the headset to his student with the cybernetic ears, then dashed around the room, shutting off the noisy air conditioner, as well as the humming box-fan. Mari closed her eyes & they both quieted their breathing. "25 crates of Kalashnikov rifles...54 kilos of Semtex explosives...16 spools of Dyno-Nobel Primaline 5NF...some other items, cocaine & untaxed cigarettes..." she repeated the items as fast as she heard them. Elio wrote down everything she said on the back of one of her drawings. "...it's all on a boat, being unloaded at slip 8C."

"Here they come" whispered Elio, as a truck showed up on the video monitor.

"Can we take them now?" asked Marisa, hopefully.

Her handler shook his head, "No, our primary objective is to determine if the PRF is our end customer. Can you hear anything else?"

"One is making a cell phone call right now" she answered. Elio held his breath to afford her complete silence. "It's Fonilla...damn it he speed dialed, no number tones."

"Keep your focus" Alboreto reminded softly.

The cyborg pressed the bulky ear-cups to her head. "It's our buyer" she whispered gravely. For a full two minutes neither cyborg nor handler spoke a word. Elio was recording everything as a back-up, but he knew Marisa's ears were more efficient than any SWA audio analysis program. As he watched a team of dock hands unloaded the truck with a forklift the old spy spotted Piero Fonilla speaking on his cell phone. He adjusted the microphone to aim straight at his target, but it was too late...the mobster snapped his phone shut and began shouting instructions at his work crew.

"Damn it!" cursed Marisa.

"You didn't hear what time the buy was going down?"

"No, it's 2 days from now!" she groaned, "2 more days in this darned room!"

Elio smiled. "I know it's rough, but it gives us time to get some back-up down here." He quickly dialed his own satellite phone.

A sleepy voice answered on the other end. "Hello?"

"Jean, it's Elio down in Sicily."

"Umm, sorry" yawned the voice, "This is Giuseppe, Jean had to go up to Venice to wrap up some...aww hell, I don't know, I was half-asleep when he rolled out of here. Either way, I'm covering for him...what can I do for you, Mr. A?" The two brothers still shared a house halfway between downtown Rome & the SWA compound.

"We've got activity at our stake-out site, and a buy is going down 2 days from now." Alboreto explained, "We could use at least one more fratello."

"Okay, alert fratello...I know Jean gave me a copy of that list...where the hell is it?" Giuse rummaged around, Elio could hear him knocking things over in the dark.

"Turn a light on, man!" laughed Alboreto, "Or do you have a woman over there?"

"A woman? Not a chance" groaned Giuseppe, "Henrietta stayed up late last night watching scary movies, and spent the rest of the night hiding under Rico's bed. She was stumbling around half-asleep in training all day, so I'm letting her stay with me tonight..._and only tonight_." Croce could hear the older man laughing on his end of the line. "Here's that list...looks like Michele Pagani & Kara are on alert tonight. I'll give them a call and get them on the road."

"Don't wake them...it can wait until morning." Elio told him.

"Then why did you wake _me_ up?" complained Giuseppe.

"I thought I was waking Jean up"

"Oh...I guess I'd have done the same thing" admitted Giuse with a chuckle, "anything else?"

"Nope...good luck with 'Etta" concluded Alboreto.

"I'm never letting that kid watch another horror movie as long as she lives" groaned Croce, as he hung up the phone.

"Who's coming?" asked Marisa.

"Kara & Michele...you know, the guy who's a trained gourmet chef?"

"Is that why you call him a cream-puff?" she asked.

Elio's face went white. _Shit, I've got to be more careful around little-Miss-cyber-ears_. "Umm, Marisa, you have to understand, some of the things I say are not meant for you to hear," he awkwardly explained, "Pagani is a good agent...he & Kara always get the job done, they just do business a little differently...for instance, I guarantee he's never brought his cyborg to a hotel like _this_. What's important is that you don't go blabbering about things you were not supposed to hear in the first place...that would be bad for _both of us_, understand?" Mari nodded her head to indicate her grave understanding. Elio took a look around and sighed, "However, it is going to be amusing when they see this hole."

**__________First Impressions__________**

_Celeste_ was probably the first Ferrari that had ever been seen in the warehouse district, and the 456 stood out like a _carnevale_ parade in the bleak neighborhood. Even late at night she attracted plenty of stares from the late shift workers, and drunks stumbling from tavern to tavern Kara allowed the car to roll to a stop, but did not shut down the V-12 engine. "We're sure this is it?" she asked, not hiding her disappointment very well. When her handler had told her they were going to Sicily she Kara's head had filled with images of the Croce brothers' tasteful villa in Taormina.

Michele looked over his maps, and admitted with a frown "Yeah, sure looks like it. Alboreto told me it was a pretty run down area. You let me get out of the car and check it out first, okay?"

"It's my job to look after _you_" she retorted, "let's get out of the car together." She gave her P2000 a quick check.

Both of them were startled by a tap on the driver's side window. A freckled face bordered by red pigtails greeted them with a smile. "Marisa?" muttered Kara, rolling down the power window.

"Hi Kara, hello Mr. Pagani!" she chirped. The younger girl's cheerful disposition did not seem to fit with the bleak surroundings, "How was the drive down?"

"Ummm, just fine" answered Michele, still a little surprised to see her.

"Michele did all the autostrada kilometers, and made me do all the city driving" griped Kara in a teasing tone, but her handler skipped to what he was more concerned with.

"Marisa, where is Elio?"

"He's still at the stakeout room...I'll take you there."

A look of puzzled disapproval crossed Michele's face. "You mean Elio sent you out _alone_, at night...in a place like this?"

The red-haired girl laughed. "Mr. Pagani, really, what's going to happen? Are you worried that I'm going to get mugged or kidnapped?" She was amused by his concern, but there was work to do. "Park your car here and I'll take you to the hotel."

She led the back-up fratello down an alley, and up a back staircase that was little more than a fire escape. "We don't want to use the front door...there's been a lot of activity at the warehouse since we called last night."

"Good" replied Michele, "don't want to attract attention" He directed his comment more at his own cyborg, who had her rifle bag slung over her shoulder. The three slipped through a back door...it had once been a locked fire-door, but the alarm wires had been cut ages ago.

They quietly entered the room to find Elio peering through the Zeiss scope. Kara took a look at her surroundings and inched a little closer to Michele. "Elio, they're here!" announced the younger cyborg.

The grey haired man rose to greet them. "Glad to see you two...this is turning into something big."

"Giuse told me you already have weapons in the warehouse?" asked Michele, shaking his hand. Elio nodded, and handed him a list of what Marisa had overheard the previous night, plus what they'd seen unloaded from the trucks. "Jeeze...over 50 kilos of Semtex? These guys aren't fooling around!"

"That's why we're waiting to make the raid" explained Alboreto, "this is no simple mafia deal...we have every reason to believe the Padania is our end customer."

Looking around the vile room as the two handlers spoke; Kara's face went white as a sheet. "_Michele_..." she whispered, "...it smells like a cat-box in here!" He gave her a sharp glance to show his disapproval of her unmannerly comment. The room was filled with a wide variety of air fresheners, in a futile effort to ameliorate the conditions.

"It sure does" Elio laughed, taking it all with good humor. "We shouldn't have much longer to wait, but I got you the room next door if you'd like to get some rest. Sorry to say, it's just as bad as this one."

"The TV works in that room," Marisa reminded him, "it gets 2 channels."

Ashamed of her squeamish behavior, Kara resolved to tough it out. "Sorry, it's just been a long drive...can I use your bathroom?" Marisa pointed out the appropriate door.

"Mari, take the scope..." ordered Elio "have a look at this, Pagani, it's a floor plan of the..." He was interrupted by a shriek, and frantic rattling of the bathroom door. Michele jumped, and pulled his pistol just in time for the door to fly open, his cyborg stumbling out backwards with her skirt caught in her underwear, showing off a pink Japanese cartoon cat for everyone in the room to see.

"_That_ is the biggest cockroach ever!" she exclaimed, pointing back into the bathroom.

"Big brown guy, about 5cm long?" asked Marisa, never taking her eye off the warehouse, "Yeah...I call him Jean."

"You gave it a name? Why don't you just _squash_ it!?" panted Kara.

Elio looked up from his papers and muttered, "Don't you think we've tried? That thing is _tough_." He looked at his wristwatch and suggested a different plan; "Listen, it's getting late, and you two have had a long drive. Girls, why don't you go out & grab us some food before all the best take-out joints close."

"Yeah...that would be good" muttered Kara, supportive of any plan that got her out of the ghastly hotel room. Michele reached over and gave her skirt a quick tug, returning her to a state of decency before tossing her the keys to _Celeste_.

Alboreto tapped his cyborg on the shoulder and said "Show her where _Tattoria Kinito_ is. It's a Lebanese joint, but does good Italian too...it may not be the haute cuisine you two are used to, but for a family-run neighborhood place I think you'll be impressed. Another thing; park that Ferrari someplace else...it's only going to attract attention. Marisa can show you a safe parking garage just a few blocks from here."

Michele nodded to give his assent, adding "Grab our clothes bags out of the trunk too" and the two cyborgs departed on their dinner run.

The two men were left alone, watching the warehouse. "Sorry about giving orders to _your_ cyborg...it's not really my place" apologized Elio, but Michele waved it off.

"No, it was good" he replied, "Kara probably would have started pulling her hair out in clumps if you hadn't sent her out. She'll be better once she returns...she just needs to relax and get used to the place."

"And how about you?"

Michele laughed, "Don't get me wrong...this is the most horrible hotel room I've ever been in, but I'm not a 17 year old girl am I?" He paused for a minute, and switched to a more serious topic that was bothering him. "Elio, was Marisa with you when you checked into this place?"

"Right by my side" answered the older man.

Pagani felt uncomfortable going further, but he felt it was important; "You do realize what that clerk must have thought...right? A grown man checking into a place like this with an 11 year old girl?"

"I imagine he thinks I'm molesting her up here" answered Alboreto, with no surprise in his voice. He never pulled his eye away from the scope.

Michele could not hide the shock in his voice. "Are you okay with that?"

Elio finally looked up from the scope to explain. "To be honest I planned it that way. If that clerk thinks I'm a child molester he won't be thinking I'm a cop, or an intelligence agent." Pagani seemed to understand that reasoning, but he obviously wasn't comfortable with it. Alboreto went on; "We specialize in two different worlds, Pagani, mine just happens to be a lot more comfortable with its own cruelty. I try my best to shield Mari from the worst aspects of it, but at the end of the day we have a dirty job to do, and it sometimes requires tactics none of us enjoy using. I'm not trying to knock the way you do business...you and Kara are a great fratello, and I'm not just talking about your effectiveness on missions. I see the way she looks at you, and the way you look at her. There's genuine love there, and I think that's just as important as our mission success rates."

"Try telling that to Jean or Lorenzo" scoffed Michele.

"I've known Lorenzo for a long time," Elio assured him, "believe me, he notices and appreciates the handlers who go that extra mile for their girl. As far as Jean goes, that man is carrying a heavy burden, and only he can decide when to let it go. He's one of the reasons old Lorenzo brought me on board...the Chief hopes I can help get Croce steered in the right direction."

"It's a struggle every day" Pagani sighed, "I never want to abandon my duty to Italia, but when I see the things we have to do...I have trouble getting up and facing it every morning. To be honest, I would have left a long time a go if it wasn't for Kara."

"I think you've got your priorities right" replied Alboreto, "at the end of the year who's going to remember how many terrorists we killed...I mean, aside from Jean...but Kara is going to remember every single thing you've done for her. We've only got a few years to make these girls lives into something positive...and when it's over I don't think you're going to regret the decisions you've made."

Michele's mind turned to Marco Toni; Elio's speech seemed to allude directly to him, but that couldn't be...Alboreto had never met Marco face to face. Neither man spoke again for a long time.

**__________Contact__________**

When the cyborgs returned, arms laden with take-out food and personal bags, they found their handlers discussing Formula One. Since both girls considered themselves fans they quickly forgot the chore of carrying the heavy, awkward bags for many blocks and eagerly locked onto the conversation. To their mutual dismay, the men were discussing unfamiliar names like _Patrick Tambay, Rene Arnoux, _and _Gilles Villeneuve_...all drivers from long before the experience of either girl.

"_Gilles_ Villeneuve?" whispered Kara, "Do you think he's a relative of Jacques?" Marisa just shrugged her shoulders. The pair handed out the take-out food they had brought back & sat silent; perplexed but fascinated by F1 stories from before they were born.

"Those guys were great, but how about the drivers from one generation further back...guys like Lauda, Regazzoni, Andretti & Hunt...those guys even raced on the old Nurburgring!" offered Michele.

"I know that track!" chirped Kara, happy to finally hear something that sounded familiar, "I can do a 5:53 on the Playstation console...using a Sauber C9 Group C car!"

"Jeeze...I can't even break the real life record of 6 minutes 11 seconds on that game" muttered Pagani, "...cyborgs...the machine probably _lets_ them cheat!" Kara scoffed, and turned up her nose in mock indignation.

"Under 6 minutes on the Nordschleife?" sighed Alboreto, shaking his head, "Unbelievable; 10 minutes was a bloody fast time when I ran it back in the late 70's."

"You got to run the old 'ring?" asked Michele.

Elio explained; "My first MI-6 posting was in Koblenz, only about 50km from the track. I had a Honda CB750 & a rare Ford Escort RS1800 back then, and was at the track every spare minute I had." He looked a little embarrassed and added "That was probably the reason I got transferred to West Berlin...my Field Commander could never get in touch with me."

"Didn't you have a cell phone?" Kara asked.

Both men laughed, and Pagani explained "You girls may not believe this, but once upon a time we existed in a world without cellular telephones!"

Kara shuddered. "Dark ages..." she muttered.

"Elio, contact! We have contact!" exclaimed Marisa. As the others ate and discussed racing they hadn't even noticed that Mari was the only one still watching the window. All three of the others jumped up to look for themselves. "At least 9 hostiles...I see Fonilla, ben Allam, and that's Teodori Ruggerio...he's with the Venice Faction!" Marisa pointed out all of their pencil-drawn portraits, taped to the wall.

"Damn, she's right!" growled Alboreto, "It's a whole day early; could we have heard the message wrong?"

"Who cares!?" Michele replied, speaking fast, "We've got to move, now!" He and Kara were already readying their XM8's; each had 6 magazines already pre-loaded. "What do you want to do?"

Elio replied with his plan; "There's no back door, so cyborgs enter through the roof...we'll storm the front bay door."

"There's 2 guards on the roof" observed Kara, as she stuffed magazines into her tactical harness, "That's on top of the 9 in the warehouse."

"I know," Alboreto told her, "I've got the only rifle with a silencer & a dialed-in scope, so I'll take care of them. You girls need to move...fast...the second I take the shots."

"Fast won't be a problem" answered Marisa with a sinister grin.

"Fast & careful" warned Michele. Kara nodded to show her understanding, Marisa looked less enthusiastic about the _careful_ part. In seconds both cyborgs were ready, weapons loaded, radios clipped to their collars, waiting anxiously as the two handlers reviewed their plan. "I'll call HQ and tell them we're initiating action" said Pagani.

"Okay, I'm heading up to the roof..." replied Elio, "Once I take out the 2 guards I'll meet up with you in the alley beside the hotel. The girls should be on the roof by then...everyone let's sync our watches." The 4 checked their time; they were already spot-on. "Girls, drop down through a rear skylight and start raising hell at exactly 22:18...that's 6 minutes from now."

* * *

Marisa & Kara were in position across from the warehouse, waiting for the shots that would signal them to rush up the side of the building. They waited in the shadow of a garbage dumpster, close enough to the hotel office that they could see what the clerk was watching on television. "Is your handler going to radio us to confirm he's taken out the guards?" whispered Kara.

"No...his rifle is silenced, but our ears will be able to pick up the 2 shots just fine." replied Marisa, "We'll rush on the first shot, he'll have them both taken care of long before we reach the top."

Kara paused, but finally asked "What if he misses?"

The younger cyborg shot her a ferocious glance and growled "He doesn't miss."

"Okay, okay!" laughed Kara nervously, trying to defuse the tense moment with humor. It was obvious that the redhead did not take any thing even resembling a negative comment about her handler lightly. Still, Kara had less faith in the night-time marksmanship of a 55 year old human who wore eyeglasses. _Wish Rico was here..._she thought.

A muffled shot barked out and Mari bolted like an olympic sprinter, with Kara in close chase. The two cyborgs had crossed the street and were climbing a rain-gutter before the second shot sounded. Then, just as the pair was halfway up the pipe, a 3rd shot sounded.

* * *

Elio made his 2 shots and climbed to his feet, grumbling to himself _"What the hell is a man my age crawling around on a gravel roof for? This nonsense was a whole lot easier 25 years ago."_ He gave a quick glance over to the warehouse and saw the two cyborgs already climbing a rain gutter, _"Well, at least I don't have to do __that__ anymore!"_ Alboreto had almost turned to go rendezvous with Michele when he caught a glimpse of more movement on the roof. A quick check through his scope confirmed; _"Damn it, 3 guards, not 2!"_ This third guard hadn't seen the dead bodies of his cohorts yet, but he was walking straight for the gutter that the girls were already halfway up. Elio dropped down on one knee...no time to get back into prone...and braced his shoulder on a shaky TV antenna. _"Don't screw this one up old man...make it count!"_ He exhaled & squeezed the trigger.

* * *

Marisa tossed herself over the top, and onto the warehouse roof, rolling into the prone shooting position with her Kel-Tech already leveled. Kara rolled in next to her just seconds later, but decided not to make mention of the fact that Elio had needed 3 shots. That was exactly what was on her team-mate's mind though...Marisa tapped Kara on the shoulder and silently pointed out the bodies; 3 of them. The younger girl grinned broadly; her handler hadn't missed after all.

"22:15" Kara whispered, tapping her Girard Perregaux Ferrari watch. They had plenty of time, so they crept along in the shadows, looking for the perfect skylight to drop down through.

* * *

From the alley Michele heard the 3 shots, and saw the 2 cyborgs go over the top. His own Perregaux watch showed 22:15..._maybe we were a little too conservative with our timetable_. Elio came sliding down a rope into the alley moments later and checked his own watch. "There were 3 guards up there, not two" the grey-haired man panted.

"I was wondering about the third shot." Pagani replied, "I figured there was a good reason. You couldn't take out 2 of them with a single bullet?"

"What do I look like, Rico?" muttered Alboreto.

"Shave the beard, comb your hair straight up...maybe." Michele teased, "You're half-British, so you're already more likely to wear a skirt than Rico."

"I'm English, not Scottish," growled the older man in retort, "although I'll admit that never stopped Benny Hill from dressing in drag." The two men laughed in spite of their tense situation. Just 12 meters away a flatbed truck sat idling...ready to be loaded down with weapons intended for the 5 Republics Faction...and the men joked.

"22:17..." Pagani muttered, "...all hell is about to break loose."

"Did you bring any grenades?" inquired Elio.

"Hell of a time to ask...but no."

Elio shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, I was thinking about blowing up the truck just in case, but shooting out the radiator should be enough." At that moment the sounds of automatic weapons fire echoed out of the warehouse. The 4 men standing outside, smoking cigarettes and waiting to load the truck, grabbed their machine guns and cautiously inched toward the bay door, not watching behind them.

In an instant, all 4 lay dead...Michele & Elio had advanced to the bay door and had the remaining 4...including the Padania buyer...caught in a cross-fire with the cyborgs at the back of the warehouse. These last hostiles were putting up a determined fight. "Think you can reach that forklift on the left?" Elio asked Michele, as bullets splintered the crates they were hiding behind. "You could flank them from there."

"Cover me..." growled Pagani.

Alboreto spoke into his radio; "Marisa, Kara...give me heavy cover fire...Michele is making a run for the forklift on your right!"

"Check Elio!" returned his cyborg. In the background he heard Kara add "Be careful, Michele!"

The grey haired spy turned to his colleague and said "Kara says _be careful_. Ready on 3."

Pagani took a deep breath and counted, "1...2...3!" He pushed off and sprinted as fast as he could, as Elio and the girls blasted the remaining hostiles with a hail of gunfire. It was only a 15 meter run, but for Michele it could not be over soon enough. He leaped like an American baseball player, sliding head first to the protective cover of the forklift, but the concrete floor was slipperier than he judged, and he slid straight past his cover, and back out into the open.

* * *

"Be careful, Michele!" shouted Kara. She turned to Marisa and asked "Do you think he heard me?"

"He'll be fine...get ready" the younger cyborg assured her. As soon as they saw Michele's head pop up both girls unloaded on the crates where their enemies were hiding with full automatic fire.

Kara urged her handler on; "Go, go, go, Michele! Oh, _shit_!" He had slid straight past the forklift, and was exposed. Frantic, she stood up and charged the hostiles, with Marisa right by her side. Fonilla & a _Cosa Nostra_ cohort died instantly, Kara got one with a 5.56 round to the neck, Marisa blew the other's chest apart with a burst of 7.62 fire, but ben Allam was smarter, he stayed low returned fire at the two exposed cyborgs. Marisa went down, falling hard onto the concrete floor.

Now it was Kara who was isolated in the open. Her handler had scrambled back to safety, so she knelt down to shield Marisa, who was lying on her back, not moving. Michele had by now reached his flanking position, and pounded the remaining 2 with semi-auto fire. The Padania man, Ruggerio, he killed, but the skilled Cheikh ben Allam rolled out of the way. He met his end just instants later though, as Elio had come around from the right, and out-flanked him. He hit the Algerian once, in the arm, but that was enough to knock the man out of hiding. Kara finished him with a blast of full automatic from her XM8, opening him up like a bag of blood.

"Are we clear?" yelled Pagani, poking his head out of hiding.

"I count all 11 down" Elio answered, "Marisa...Kara...give us a heat-sweep! Is there anyone else alive in this warehouse?" The cyborgs could tune their vision to give a reasonably accurate infa-red scan of a small space. "Girls, did you hear me!? Infa-red sweep, now!"

Only Kara answered, her voice frantic, "I don't see anyone else...Michele, I need you!"

"What's wrong?" called back Pagani, coming out of his hiding spot. He could tell by her voice that it was something _really_ bad.

"Michele, Mr. Alboreto, come quick!" she pleaded. Both men ran to her, and found the girl hunched over a bloody Marisa. Kara was doing her best, trying to hold direct pressure over the younger girl's two bullet wounds, but it just wasn't enough...bright red blood spurted from between her fingers.

Mari was conscious, but not entirely lucid; "Elio, look! I finally got shot!" she muttered drunkenly.

"Stay down, try not to talk." he told her, tearing her blouse away and accessing the damage. It was arterial bleeding, and the bullets had gone deep...whatever ammunition ben Allam was using it had gone straight through her cyborg armor. "Damn...we're gonna need a chopper from HQ...Michele, see what you can do, okay? We need a doctor that knows cyborgs!"

The wounded cyborg continued to babble; "This is a big deal, isn't it? It's my first time getting shot...it's like...I'm not a rookie anymore! It hurts a lot more than I thought it would."

"Stop talking; we don't know if your lungs are hit" Elio told her. He was pretty confident that they were not; there was no bloody foam issuing from either her lips, or the bullet-holes. It was still be better for her to stay quiet. Unfortunately, Marisa was not being co-operative.

The girl's speech was slurred; "I'll be fine, Elio, I just need to get on my feet," she attempted to pick herself up off the concrete floor. Despite the 2 gunshot wounds Mari still had enough strength to overcome her handler so Kara had to hold her down. The younger cyborg began struggling. "I'm alright...let me up!"

"_Primary command; all-stop!_" barked Elio as he fought to control her bleeding.

Marisa fell backward limply, as if a switch had been thrown that instantly sapped all the strength from her artificial muscles. "Oh, man...that sucks" she muttered, "I didn't know you could do _that_."

"I can do it anytime you're not listening to me," her handler said sharply, "you're injured, and you need to lie still until we can get help for you...Pagani, how are we doing on that helicopter?"

Michele had just finished his phone call. "Chopper is spinning up right now."

"It'll still be 3 hours down from Rome and 3 hours back up" Alboreto growled.

"No, they're sending the bird from the Public Safety branch office in Palermo" informed Michele, "it will arrive in less than an hour."

"What about our doctor?"

Pagani shook his head. "The flight doc knows something about cyborgs, but he's no expert. "

"Better than nothing" sighed Elio, and nothing seemed to be all he was accomplishing. Despite his efforts, Marisa was still losing a lot of blood. It saturated her clothing, covered Alboreto's hands & arms, and even got on Kara, who was still holding the younger girl's shoulders in spite of the fact that she was no longer fighting to stand up. Michele paced uncomfortably...the scene playing out in front of him in the dark warehouse was nothing like that day in Madrid, years ago, but it still stirred bad memories.

Marisa began to change. Her eyes grew glazed and distant, and her breathing rate increased. Soon she was hyperventilating. "Mr. Alboreto, what's happening?" Kara asked, trying her best to stay calm.

"It's an autonomic response to her blood loss" explained the older man, "Mari can store extra oxygen in her tissues when she makes a breath dive...right now her body is using that system. She's 'filling-up' so to speak, trying to store as much O2 as possible in case her blood pressure drops."

"Will that actually work?" asked Pagani.

Alboreto slid a bloody hand into his pocket and pulled out something that looked like a pen. "It will if I use this."

* * *

By the time the Public Safety med-evac chopper arrived Marisa had not spoken for 35 minutes. She was still bleeding, and breathing heavily, but her handler had not yet administered the conditioning injector. The girl's skin had turned pale; it made her look less human, more machine.

Local police were already on the scene, but Michele held them at a safe distance, keeping their attention focused on the dead terrorists and the crates of illegal weapons. At the back of the warehouse they could see 2 figures in the dark, working on a 3rd, but none of the police got close enough to see what was really going on.

There was space between the warehouse & the hotel, but it was too narrow and strung with wires to permit a helicopter landing, especially in the dark. The pilot made touch-down 50 meters away, on the wharves at the end of the street, and a medical team consisting of the doctor and a paramedic sprinted the distance, pushing their folding gurney. Michele cleared a path for them through the police, leading them straight to the wounded cyborg & her handler. "How long has she been down?" asked the doctor.

"About 45 minutes" replied Alboreto.

"48 minutes, 35 seconds" Kara answered her more precisely.

She looked at the older girl and asked, "Are you a cyborg as well?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Do you have some sort of internal chronometer?" the doctor inquired.

Kara shook her head and replied, "No, it's on my wrist...but it's a very good one."

"How much experience do you have with Agency cyborgs?" Elio asked her.

The doctor admitted it wasn't much; "I've been to the compound in Rome for a 4-day seminar given by Doctor Ziliani, but these two are the first real-live cyborgs I've ever met." Her paramedic didn't even have that much training...he'd only reviewed the anatomy diagrams on the helicopter. The two worked as they spoke, hooking up a blood transfusion. "Is the wounded cyborg a Type 1 or Type 2 unit?" she asked.

"Type 2" answered Elio.

Kara added "Her name is _Marisa_," with a sharp note in her voice.

The doctor was a little taken aback by the rebuke; it was the first thing that had slowed her down in her work. During Dr. Ziliani's seminar she'd been told that the cyborgs had varying degrees of personality, but she hadn't expected one to be offended. "I'm sorry" she replied, "I should not have referred to your partner a _unit_." She sighed and shook her head. "I was told the type 2...girls, had slightly weaker armoring, but it should have been able to protect her from a bullet."

"A normal bullet, yes" replied the handler, "I suspect we're dealing with some kind of steel core armor piercing round...we'll find out when we dig them out of her."

"I got 3 of those in my belly" Kara sighed, "they went straight through my abdominal armor."

"Well, this might be worse..." the doctor muttered, putting the finishing touches on a dressing, "Marisa is hit very close to the heart, and there is obviously damage to a major artery. I'm done...let's move her!"

With help from Elio & Kara the 2 medics shifted their patient to the gurney. Marisa was startled out of her near-unconscious state, and reacted instinctively. She rolled to escape what she assumed to be unknown captors, knocking both Elio & the paramedic to the ground. The gurney toppled over and crashed onto its side. Back on the concrete, Mari struggled to get back on her feet, hands & knees struggling for grip on a floor slippery with her own blood. "Marisa, primary command all-stop!" shouted her handler, but she was not responsive, "Primary command all-stop!" The doctor tried to restrain her, but the other handler yanked her back.

"She doesn't know what's going on, or where she is!" Michele exclaimed, "She could kill you in this state!" Only Kara had the strength to restrain Marisa.

"Sorry kid...no choice" muttered Elio. As Kara struggled with her, Alboreto rammed the injector pen into Marisa's neck. In seconds, the girl's muscles went limp again.

"What is that?" asked Pagani.

Elio explained; "It's a mixture of conditioning & sedatives, all under pressure for rapid injection. Mari now has a full dose of conditioning, which she's never had before."

"Why did you wait so long to administer that?" asked the paramedic, rushing to get the now inert cyborg back on the gurney.

"Because it might mean she'll never dive again..." he sighed.

**__________Coffee Break__________**

It was a day and a half before Michele & Kara got back to the SWA compound. "It's been a long drive," Michele told his cyborg, "go get something to eat, and some rest. I'll come find you after I've been to the hospital."

"Michele, I want to come too!" she protested, but he put his hand up, gently but firmly declining her request.

"Let me check it out first; you can visit later on...trust me." Kara seemed disappointed, but accepted his orders. "Don't look so down, if it had gone badly we'd know it by now." The girl gave him a forced, but sincere smile, and slowly walked back to the dormitory.

Pagani found Elio Alboreto alone in the waiting room of the hospital's cyborg wing. He had a clean shirt, but no jacket or tie, and his slacks still wore the bloodstains from the night in Siracusa. That told Michele that he hadn't gone home yet, and had probably been awake the whole time.

The grey-haired man spoke first; "Hey, you got back quick, no issues with wrapping things up down in Sicily?"

"It was pretty easy," replied Michele, sitting down next to him, "of course, when you kill 11 known terrorists and capture a warehouse load of enemy weapons the cover-up just kind of does itself. We had plenty of agencies lining up to take the credit for that one."

"Good, good" muttered Elio, nodding, "sorry to stick you with packing up all that surveillance gear."

"Not a problem," Pagani assured him, "it was more important that you were on that helicopter with Marisa. Besides, it was pretty funny watching Kara try to coil up all that camera wire! Of course, she got her revenge on me during the drive home...I got stuck driving the van, with her in my Ferrari. I had to call that kid 7 times on her cell phone to tell her _slow down_, this thing can't keep up with you. Oh...I've got your rifles, your personal bags, and all Mari's drawings in the back of the van."

"Thanks, I'll go unload that stuff later."

Finally feeling like he'd carried out enough small-talk, Michele asked what he was really there to find out; "So how is she?"

"Alive" replied Elio, "and finally stable. I tell you, we almost lost her a couple of times." He leaned back in his chair and told the story; "The doc wasn't able to stop the bleeding, and it was still a 3 hour flight to Rome. We were transfusing regular human blood into her, which will work in a pinch since synthetic cyborg blood uses a similar hemoglobin transfer system to carry oxygen to the body. Well, there was only so much blood on board, and we were running out, so the doctor had to make a tough call...we opened her chest right there in the chopper."

"Jeeze..." muttered Pagani.

"It gets even better" continued the older man. "Once she was opened up we saw that one of the bullets had nicked her...well, in a human you'd call it the aorta, you get the idea, her biggest artery had about a 1/3 centimeter tear in it. That's where the leak was coming from, and it was just getting worse."

"What did you do?"

Elio laughed "Stuffed it with a foam earplug from the helicopter."

"Are you serious?" muttered Pagani in disbelief.

"It was actually very effective, they expand to fit...and they come wrapped in sterile plastic, so that's one less thing to worry about." explained Alboreto, "That got her all the way to Rome, but by that time we had another issue. All that human blood carries oxygen to a cyborg body just fine, but it can't carry chemical energy to her artificial muscles. Cyborgs need glucose to fuel their biological components, and special amino acids to power the artificial parts. So Marisa went into the cyborg equivalent of diabetic shock, and her artificial systems began shutting down."

"Which deprives her biological systems of life support..." groaned Michele.

"Exactly" Elio replied, "Dr. Bergonzi was on duty when we arrived, which is good, because he's the best heart guy, but before he could operate on that he needed to hit her with intravenous food solution. That was our second close call."

"Was he able to repair the heart?"

"No, she needed a replacement" explained Marisa's handler, "and even though it's not as dangerous as a human heart transplant, that's still no routine procedure. As if things weren't difficult enough, she experienced kidney failure during the operation."

"What the hell?" gasped Pagani. It was just one thing after another.

"All those human blood cells we transfused into her started to die, and her artificial kidneys got overloaded trying to handle it all. A second surgical team was called in halfway through to put her on kidney dialysis while Bergonzi & his team continued with the heart transplant. That was close call number 3."

"Please don't tell me there's a fourth" groaned Michele.

"That was the last bad moment" Alboreto assured him.

Pagani asked "and the bullets?"

"Amour piercing steel core _with_ a Teflon coating" answered Elio "she could have been a series 1 wearing a bullet proof vest...nothing was stopping those rounds, she never had a chance." He took a deep breath and finished, "The surgery ended only 6 hours ago."

"What are you still doing here? You should go home, or at least to your office...get some rest" Michele suggested.

"Soon enough" Alboreto answered him, "the docs say she could wake up sometime soon, and I want to be here when she does."

That made Pagani grin. Handlers like Jean, and Marco near the end, aggravated him with their apathy. Despite his gruff demeanor Elio was not like that...like Michele he felt a genuine obligation to be nearby when his cyborg was in distress. "Well, you look like you at least need a cup of coffee."

"Good idea" Elio muttered, rubbing his eyes. He stood and stretched his stiff back. "I think there's a coffee maker in the lobby."

"Nah, let's go over to the dining hall...the coffee's better over there, and you look like you could use a walk & the fresh air."

The grey haired man shrugged his shoulders and replied "Sure, can't argue with that. Besides, I imagine Kara will be over there waiting for her update."

"Probably" laughed Michele, as the 2 men walked out of the hospital.

* * *

Pagani addressed the dining hall's barista; "My usual, good sir." He watched with satisfaction as the man tossed together his own personal concoction without even looking at a cheat-sheet. Cafe mocha, 2 shots espresso, 4 pumps of chocolate and a single pump of raspberry syrup. The mixture had become popular among the members of Section 2, and many just ordered it by saying "_give me a Pagani_." The barista finished & turned to Elio, who was not one of his regular patrons.

"Eh...just black" ordered the older man, uncomfortable with the confusing array of choices.

"Plain black coffee?" protested Michele, "You could have gotten _that_ back at the hospital!"

"Well then we'd have missed out on the fresh air" Alboreto joked; it had in fact begun to rain as they walked from the hospital.

Pagani was not willing to accept _plain black coffee_. "Cancel that black...give him one of what I'm having. Trust me on this one,"

It was between meal times so the two men had no trouble finding a table alone. For the first few moments Michele just stared at his older colleague, anxiously awaiting a verdict. Elio finally took a sip of his coffee.

"So...what do you think?" asked Pagani.

Elio's bushy grey eyebrows rose a bit. "Not bad" he muttered, swishing the unfamiliar mixture around in his mouth a bit.

"It always cheers me up" Michele told him, with a self-satisfied grin.

"Well, yes..." replied Alboreto, "...I think I'm feeling gayer already."

"Oh screw you!" laughed Pagani, taking a gulp of his own coffee. He had a feeling he would never turn Alboreto from the dark side.

"Happier...can't I say I'm feeling happier?" Elio continued his jest. He gave a big sigh and admitted "You know, it's been a really long week...and it's not over yet."

"You're through the worst of it" pointed out the other handler.

Elio thought for a moment. "I don't know. We're certainly through the most _dangerous_ part, and I know Mari's not going to die, but she's still got a hard struggle ahead of her. I had to use that conditioning injector; the docs say she'll be able to go back to diving, but only once her drug levels return to normal. That means withdrawals...and that's not going to be fun."

"She's gone through withdrawals before?" asked a slightly confused Michele.

"Not like this..." sighed Elio, "...no, it's _me_ who has the vast personal experience with coming down off drugs. I was a closet opiate addict nearly 5 years. It started with morphine after I got shot in the gut, but I did 'em all...codeine, OxyContin, I smoked black-tar opium, even did some heroin. Along the way I tried all the other stuff, Quaaludes, barbiturates, & a whole lot of cocaine. It was living hell kicking that junk, but eventually I did it. Still, once an addict, always an addict...a day doesn't go by that I don't think about it." He took a deep gulp of his coffee and said "In a way I think I'm the best handler Mari could have right now...someone who's been through it himself."

"Marisa's birth mother was a heroin addict too, wasn't she?" muttered Pagani.

Elio nodded. "Ironic, isn't it? Out of the arms of one drug addict and into another."

"But your addiction wasn't your fault" suggested Michele, eager to find some silver lining under this grey cloud. He was very uncomfortable with the conversation, but pushed in deeper out of morbid fascination with a world he had always considered that of _the enemy_.

"Maybe you're right about how it first started, but saying 5 years of hidden addiction wasn't my fault would just be a dodging my own responsibility. When that stuff gets its hooks into you things like _fault_, and _blame_ mean nothing. You're a different, unrecognizable person...one who would do anything to get his next fix. You know, I was still with MI-6 during that whole period, and I made a name for myself investigating the drug trade and helping local police make busts. That isn't even MI-6's mission, but they were calling me a hero for doing it. The truth was, the only reason I did it was to get my hands on the product. I killed men & women, and put the lives of my team at risk to support _my_ addiction...now tell me that _wasn't my fault_."

"Perhaps helping Marisa through her withdrawals is your penance..." offered Michele.

"Being responsible for Marisa is penance for a lot of things" chuckled Alboreto, his grim mood breaking up. "Sorry to dump all that heavy stuff on you...this mess just brought back a whole lot of foul memories."

"I'm glad to provide a sympathetic ear" Michele replied, but he did not let on how fascinating he had found the conversation. Alboreto really was from an alien world that Pagani had never been part of.

They were interrupted by Alboreto's phone buzzing. He answered it, but there was nobody on the line. The older man cursed and poked at the buttons, trying to answer the call. "Elio, it's a text message" Michele finally informed him. This guy really _was_ from an alien world.

"Eh...yeah, okay...here it is. It's from Bianchi, says Mari is waking up...I'd better get over there."

"Good luck" wished Pagani, shaking his hand as the 2 handlers stood up. "I guess I'll go find Kara and tell her everything is okay. Tell Mari that Kara & I will pay her a visit when the docs say it's okay...in fact I'll make her a batch of my famous fettuccine al burro."

Elio looked concerned, "Hope it's a big batch...you're taking on a bottomless pit, you know.

Pagani rolled his eyes and muttered, "Jeeze, you Brits will never understand...I'm _Italian_...we don't know _how_ to make a small batch of anything!"

**__________Mari's Choice___________**

The first thing Marisa saw when she opened her eyes was a grey blob, which slowly came into focus, and became the familiar face of her handler. "Elio..." she muttered, struggling to work moisture back into her mouth. Her handler offered her a glass of water with a straw, and she sucked down almost the whole thing. "...this is the hospital? How did we get here, I don't remember."

"You were hit in the fire-fight" he explained, "do you remember the stakeout in Siracusa?"

"I remember getting shot...it was my first time!" she replied, trying to sit up in the bed. Elio put a restraining hand on her shoulder. "I'll never forget my first time getting shot, it means I'm a veteran now...a real agent, right?"

"It sure does" chuckled her handler. It was just like Marisa to be _excited_ about a gunshot wound; this girl was genuinely weird, in an endearing sort of way.

"What I meant was, how did we get here from Sicily? I don't remember anything after you told me _all-stop_."

Alboreto filled her in, but spared her all of the details of how close to death she'd been; "We took a helicopter from Sicily, and when we reached Rome Dr. Bergonzi gave you a new heart. It took over 16 hours & 2 surgical teams to fix you up, but now you're just like new...which is good because between the helicopter ride, your new heart and all the surgery you're going to have to live another 2 years to pay the SWA back!" He hoped the joke would keep her in a good mood, but again, her response was unpredictable.

"I had my first helicopter ride, my first aircraft ride of _any kind_, and I don't even remember it!?" she groaned, "Aww, man!"

"Marisa, you have to stay relaxed or you can't have any visitors." Dr. Bianchi warned her.

"He's right...you've been through a whole lot, and you'll need to rest for a few days before you can even return to the dorm." Elio informed her.

"But I feel _great_" she protested "my head is clearer than it's ever been...I can concentrate, and I don't even feel a bit anxious."

The 2 men took a look at each other, and Elio took a seat by his cyborg's bed. "Mari, I had to do something to keep you alive. I had to inject you with a dose of conditioning...that's why you feel so clear headed right now."

"How m-m-much" she stammered, knowing the implications.

Elio took her hand and explained "When I first injected you, your levels were close to what Rico gets, but we've transfused a lot of fluids since then, so right now you're closer to Henrietta & Triela's level."

"Elio, no!" she cried, "If I have that much conditioning I can never dive again!" Her heart-rate monitor began chirping faster, as the young cyborg became agitated. Bianchi stayed a step back, but shot Alboreto an urgent glance that said _do something!_

Elio leaned forward and stroked her forehead. "Mari, stay calm, it's not as bad as it sounds."

"It is that bad!" she exclaimed desperately, "I can't..."

"Marisa, stop and listen!" snapped her handler. She was silenced by the sharpness in her handler's voice, but still looked very worried...her heart-rate had not come down. He refilled her water glass and slowly spilled some across her hands, which seemed to help. "I said, it's not as bad as it sounds. The conditioning drug can work its way out of your system, but it will take time...and it won't be fun. You're going to go through some very painful withdrawals, but only if you decide to."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.

"I'm giving you a choice...you can keep your conditioning levels right where they are...you can be a normal cyborg and never suffer from anxiety attacks again" he explained, "no other cyborg gets to decide her own level of conditioning, but I'm offering you that option now."

She fixed him with a hard glare. "I would have to give up diving" she muttered.

Alboreto sighed "Yes."

"Then you know my answer already" replied Marisa, "I don't care how hard it is, I don't care if I still have to fight my _Marisa moments_; I want to return my conditioning to where I can dive."

Bianchi never took his eyes off the cyborg's monitors, and they had all returned back to normal. He finally turned to look at Elio and nodded to show his approval.

"I figured that would be your decision" said the handler, drawing a smile from the girl, "but I had to ask. You understand, these are going to be _real_ withdrawals & it's _really_ going to hurt."

"Hey, I just took my first two bullets" she chirped, "I'm ready for anything!"

The old spy smiled with her. He knew it wasn't going to be that easy, and enthusiasm would only get her so far. As her handler, Elio knew he would have to carry her the rest of the way. Bianchi picked up his clip-board and told them "I have to make my rounds, but I'll be back to check on you later" before leaving the fratello. Marisa & Elio sat and talked for the next few hours, about the mission, about the upcoming struggle she was going to face, but mostly about fun stuff they planned to do in the better days ahead.

Elio stayed with Marisa all afternoon, and did not leave her until she fell back to sleep.

**END**


End file.
